Page 41 of The Baron’s Halo

Finally numb to his disgusting intimations, Isabelle rose. “I must go or I’ll be missed. I will be here tomorrow without fail.”

“As will I, my dear.” Ambrose grasped her hand, pulling it to his lips.

Isabelle snatched it away, ran to the door, pulled it open, then fled down the corridor. Sick to her stomach and sick at heart, she raced for her bedchamber, not knowing what she was going to do, yet knowing she had to find some way out of this never-ending nightmare.

Chapter Sixteen

After making sure Ambrose had left the premises, Isabelle pled a headache and went directly to their chamber. Cooper helped her into her nightgown and brushed her hair until the soothing motion calmed Isabelle enough to be able to think clearly.

What was she going to do?

“Shall I bring you some supper, my lady?” The maid had tidied the chamber and stood ready for her next chore.

“No, thank you. I am not hungry.” Her stomach might well revolt at any moment. “You may go for the night.”

“Are you certain, my lady? You don’t look at all well.” Her maid knew her well enough by now to know when something was amiss.

“I’m tired, that’s all.” Weary beyond belief, Isabelle moved to the bed. She needed time to think before Sandy retired for the night. He would likely play cards with his cousins until late, which would give Isabelle that very necessary—

“Did I hear you plan not to dine with us, my dear?” The door had opened revealing Sandy, a frown marring his handsome face. “Are you not well?”

“Thank you, Cooper. You may go.”

With a searching look at her mistress, the maid left, shutting the door.

Summoning a smile, Isabelle patted the covers beside her. “Come sit here, my love.”

He bounded over to the bed and sat carefully next to her. “Are you simply tired from all the excitement and traveling? Or is something the matter?”

“Do not worry, Sandy. I believe it is the traveling mostly. And of course, being in the midst of Quartermains and their wagers would be a drain on anyone. I take it you made some canny wagers?”

Her husband beamed at her, totally distracted from her welfare, as she had hoped. “I did. In fact, I won against Grandfather, which is no mean feat.”

“Then perhaps we should celebrate your victory.” Isabelle hadn’t planned on this encounter, however it would be the last time she could make love to her husband without the crushing guilt of the betrayal she was about to perpetrate on him. It would also be the last chance for them to conceive a child for the foreseeable future.

After Ambrose was presumed dead, her mother had spoken to her of a tea she’d drunk each morning that would keep a woman barren. Mama hadn’t wanted to bring a child into a world of fear and violence. Now Isabelle would need to do the same. That she might one day bear a child that wasn’t Sandy’s was as abhorrent as the act she was about to commit. But if she was to save her mother’s life, what else could she do?

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” Sandy’s worried face searched hers intently. “I was told you had a headache.”

“Because I knew that excuse would allow me to come here.” Isabelle raised her brows in what she hoped was a seductive manner. “And wait for you. If you had tarried too long downstairs, I would have sent Cooper to find you.” She slid her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth to hers. “As I said, a celebration is in order.”

Grinning broadly, Sandy quickly gathered her in his arms, deepening the kiss immediately. He explored her mouth thoroughly, tasting her even as she savored the slight sweetness of a peppermint he’d apparently eaten. They were his favorite. Lost in the kiss, Isabelle allowed herself simply to enjoy the pleasure he gave her.

Too soon he broke the kiss, but only to strip off his clothing, tossing it piece by piece around the room. She giggled when his cravat caught on the pitcher standing on the washstand. Cooper had forgotten to put the screen back around it. The cravat draped jauntily over the handle, a whimsical come-hither air to it.

When she turned her attention back to her husband, he’d stripped to his shirt, which then came tearing off over his head, revealing his beautiful body—broad chest, narrow waist tapering to slim hips. And of course, his cock jutting out magnificently. She could gaze at him for hours had she been given the chance.

However, sight of his arousal always made her nether regions heat and throb. Tonight, she wanted him so badly, she stroked its length boldly, making him shiver.

“You are a minx, wife. You know exactly how to make me ready for you in an instant.” He swept the covers off her then pushed her nightgown up over her stomach. “I, however, have something else in mind first.”

Isabelle strained upward, seeking his mouth again, but it was gone—suddenly descending to her navel. She gasped as he ran his tongue around it, dipping into the shallow hole, nibbling at her flesh, making her gasp and moan.

“You like that, do you, madam?” He smiled against her skin and continued downward.

Squirming as he inched closer to her nether regions, Isabelle held her breath, disbelieving what he seemed to be aiming to… “What…what are you doing?”

“Something I think you will like very much, my love.” He’d raised his head to speak, then lowered his mouth to her most private place.